


Morning Sun

by forwardarcadia



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 18:31:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7518871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forwardarcadia/pseuds/forwardarcadia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And a Kingsrockshipping fic I had in mothballs for a bit now, ready for the taking-</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Sun

It retained its crimson shade, its innate, passionate flame about it. Despite the countless months of disuse, Lysandre Cafe appeared as pristine as ever. It stood as a testament to its founder’s old philosophy, another reminder of his flawed views. For, despite its fixed beauty, none could shake its past affiliations.

Ever since Lysandre’s departure to Unova for rehab, much speculation rose regarding his cafe’s state. Some believed it a relic now, a stain upon Lumiose City’s proud legacy. Others found it morbidly fascinating, all part of a greater cautionary tale. Whatever the matter, it remained a source of heated discussion for ages. All came to a point two years following the Ultimate Weapon’s grand failure.

The initial suggestion rose from Professor Sycamore, forced to his wits end by the endless discourse. It rose like a flame, at once vibrant and all consuming. The more Kalos’ people dwelled on it, the more eager they were to accept it fully. After all, it promoted their taste for preservation and scandal; Why wouldn’t they turn Lysandre Cafe into a museum centered around Team Flare’s mishaps?

In due time, it seemed like both sides of the debate were satisfied by this agreement. Some could revel in the twisted glory of Flare’s fate; Others could look upon it with historical value, a modern triumph of good over evil. With both sides sated, all it took was Lysandre’s blessing to convert his former safe-haven. He was all too willing to offer it, to atone for his sins. And so the re-innovation began, its clatter audible through Lumiose’s sprawling streets.

All its bustle drew the attention of many, far and wide. As news of the cafe’s transformation swept the land, all from countless regions fell under its spell. The months passed, with Lysandre Cafe growing all the more splendid. Likewise, its flame had spread to the masses, its passion bright in their own minds.

The cafe’s transformation brought the masses to its wake, eager to see what had become of its halls. As it stood, a grand celebration had been arranged for its re-opening. Trainers came from all over to witness its rebirth, to partake in exquisite food and drink. Though the land was dedicated to preservation, its humble cafe remained, ready to serve the ravenous masses.

 

As hordes of guests and press swarmed the area, a man and woman guarded the Flare Institute’s front. They donned their former uniforms, their forms like flame against the crowd. As the man scanned the area, his associate greeted their visitors. 

“Hello, all, and welcome to the new and improved Flare Institute!” she called forth. “I know you’re dying to get in, but it’ll be just a bit longer. I’m Alice, and I’ll be your guide to the wonderful world of Kalos!” As disappointed groans filled the air, she glanced to her companion.

“But, not to worry,” she remarked with a bright smile. “Me and Marcel here have prepared an intro that’ll answer all your burning questions!” She waved to him, prompting Marcel to meet her gaze. He shot her a knowing wink, to which she nodded back. With a casual toss of her hair, Alice reassured the crowd silently.

“See, it began when a young woman moved to Kalos,” Alice announced proudly. “She had all the world’s hopes and dreams in her very pocket!” With another toss of her hand, she smiled, radiant in the morning’s soft sun. Marcel gazed at her, silently urging her to continue. “For, her name was Serena Sabine, the most beautiful woman in Kalos!” The crowd’s chatter began anew, openly doubting her very claims.

To deter them, Alice pressed on as Marcel scanned the crowd once more. Atop countless heads, he searched for pavement, and its accompanying vehicles. He expected a particular one that morning, one emblazoned in pitch black and flaming crimson. As he searched on, Alice continued her tale.

“Anyway, if you saw her,” she shot back as the crowd roared. “You wouldn’t doubt me, not one bit!” She glanced at Marcel, still lost to his work. “Why do you think our Leader liked her, after all? Anyway, Serena got her starter from Professor Sycamore shortly afterwards, and then-” In the distance, Marcel spotted his target, lumbering towards their space. As it approached, he reached for Alice’s arm. She jerked back, only to shoot forth with his revelation.

“Well, never you mind that!” she announced to the rapt crowd. Her arm shot into the air, gesturing to the distant vehicle. “If you look to your left, you’ll see the man of the hour’s here!” The crowd shuffled about, attempting to spot the mysterious vehicle. All the while, Marcel and Alice watched on with misty eyes. It was only when the car stopped at the Institute’s front did their chatter cease.

As crowd and press alike marveled at its sleek form, the right door opened. In a single, fluid motion, Lysandre revealed himself and stepped out. The sun caught his imposing form, illuminating it from within. It reflected along his toned frame, the hard muscle so concealed beneath such fine clothing.

As he stood among the crowd, Serena emerged in turn and grasped his hand. Now side by side, the sun fell upon them, its warmth a great comfort. The crowd’s chatter began anew, forcing Lysandre’s hand once more.

“Settle down, all!” he called to the masses, drawing their silence. “I’m sure you’re all eager for the Flare Institute’s grand reveal! So am I, but we must keep our decorum present. Now, if you’ll just follow me, we’ll proceed as such-”

As soon as he announced it, the crowd followed his very command. Swarms of people crowded into the former cafe, marveling at its restored grandeur. Flame greeted them anew, in the guise of Flare’s former presence.

All manner of Team relics adorned the walls, an introduction to the museum’s new purpose. The crowd shuffled about, leaving Lysandre to watch their commotion anew. Unbeknownst to him, Serena opted for the cafe’s confines, and walked to a nearby table.

Order gradually returned to their space; Some parted for the museum stowed away in Lysandre Labs’ former halls. As some joined the tour group, others remained in the cafe. True to its origins, a banquet of exquisite food had been set out, ready for the taking. The infamous Slowpoke tails were present, joined by sides of Arbok-cured cheeses and poached Pansage leaves. To finish, dishes of fresh Pecha cobbler were about, their warm scent intoxicating. It mixed with the aroma of cream and coffee, drawing many to its source.

As baristas served the masses, Lysandre met Serena at “their” table, where she sat alongside Professor Sycamore. Joining them were Xerosic and Emma, who dined on Pecha and cream. Across the way, Bryony and Celosia chatted among themselves, with Malva rounding out their former Flare companions. A strange comfort rose within him to see them together on such good terms. It warmed his heart, softened its hard cockles, if only for a little while.

 

Once all had settled into the cafe’s quarters, Lysandre took a moment to study it anew. The comfort within himself only rose, to see his life’s ambitions taken flesh again. The rich crimsons and maroons he adored were as lovely as ever, as warm as they’d been. He couldn’t help but smile bitter-sweetly, for it was all a ruse now. A beautiful reminder of his misguided ways, of his most fatal flaw.

With the somber spark along his senses, he glanced at Serena. She appeared comfortable with it all, flawless in her ease. As she spoke with Sycamore and Emma, he drank in her enchanting form. She seemed made of the loveliest gems, forged in Arceus’ flame itself. But as radiant as she appeared, he knew her true allure lay within herself. For, it rested in her conviction, her pure, selfless heart.

Lysandre knew she could have abandoned him, just as so many had. Scorn could have stained her reputation in her eyes, a product of his once cruel nature. But despite fate’s attempts otherwise, Serena remained loyal, selfless in her devotion. She’d found her love within his shattered soul, which grew in due time. Now together in the ashes of his dream, Lysandre couldn’t help but feel humbled in her presence.

He grew to love her in turn, to worship her being, its eternal sun. As the light reflected onto her golden locks, he smiled to himself. Now overwhelmed by his bliss, Lysandre reached for a wine glass and rose it into the light. It cast its rays upon the crowd, at once glorious and intimidating. As they turned to watch him, Serena ceased to speak. She met Lysandre’s gaze, their icy pools now soft and misty. Aware of their heightened intrigue, he held the glass, only to strike a spoon along its rim.

“I didn’t mean to capture your attention just yet,” he announced, his voice soft and husky. “But now that I have it, I’d like to speak of my time after Geosenge.” As the crowd fell silent, Lysandre felt their intrigue shatter into a fierce, visceral impulse. His shoulders stiffened, leaving Serena to grasp his arm tenderly. In the corner of his eye, he saw her concern, its radiant kindness.

He turned to her, and shot his beloved an appreciative smile. Now subdued in her fears, Serena nodded back, silently urging him on. With her support clear, Lysandre turned back to the crowd and spoke once more.

“I’m sure that you know the sordid tale behind that,” he elaborated as he set the glass down. “But for those who do not, I’d like to present the truth! The pure, untarnished truth.” With a deep breath, he summoned his strength to its fullest. All eyes lay upon him, boring through his mighty form.

“Well, as you know,” he stated forth. “I was the head of Team Flare, of whom this museum honors. Our goal was simple, to ‘purify’ the world and restore its natural glory.” He paused for a moment, allowing all to speak among themselves. A strained undercurrent hung upon their words, chiding his past actions. Undeterred by their disapproval, Lysandre forced himself to continue.

“Yes, it sounds ludicrous now,” he remarked as his eyes narrowed. “But my faith lay elsewhere then. It lay in deceit, in a false, all-consuming hope. It was with the Ultimate Weapon, my family’s greatest mistake!” He struck the table, sending all into a frenzy. As raucous chatter filled the air, Serena grasped his arm again. Likewise, Sycamore leaned in closer, ready to subdue him if needed.

As Lysandre nodded knowingly to them, the crowd’s talk only grew louder. It was when he slammed his fists upon hard oak did they take notice. The crowd gazed upon Lysandre, his distaste clear. Now cowed by his blazing fury, they fell silent once more.

“Yes, you know of the Great War,” he shot back, his mouth agape. “Know of its vast devastation, its lives cast aside for mere pride!” Countless eyes fell upon him, now wide blank with horror. “It was my intention to rid the world of such wickedness, to ensure such an event never happened again!” Lysandre paused, his lips trembling. “But I know now my folly, my selfish desire.”

“For, death and renewal are nature’s way,” he pressed on as his eyes became wet. “It was written upon Xerneas and Yveltal themselves! I was wrong to challenge them, to spit on Arceus’ very creation!” The crowd’s chatter began anew, now full of hopeful approval. “While I couldn’t change the past, I take full responsibility for all I’ve harmed.” Icy orbs fell upon Sycamore and Emma, their gaze tenderly sorrowful.

“Augustine, you’ve taught me well,” Lysandre admitted on soft, weary breath. “I know how you adore my vigor, as misguided as it was.” Sycamore nodded knowingly, his eyes softly lidded. “I’m sorry to have mislead you all these years, to have fought against what you cherish the most.” He glanced to Emma, studying her for any clear unease. “Little one, Team Flare has mended its ways. We only seek to help others now, in honest, kind ways. Looker cares for you, as does Xerosic here. But be assured, you’ll never have to fear us again.”

In a fit of passion, Lysandre rose up, his broad chest set forward. “That goes for everyone here,” he announced, drawing Serena’s gaze to him. “So long as I live, I vow to honor Xerneas’ word and leave the world a better place!” He glanced at her, marveling at her tender gleam. The radiance he so adored sparkled back, leaving him oddly sated.

“My words shall never be hollow,” he declared, leaving all speechless in his wake. “From this day forth, I cast off my own filth for Arceus’ radiant purity!” As Lysandre stared at the crowd, a strange spark emerged. It lay in numerous eyes, now bright with renewal. It was his life’s ambitions taken form, free of selfish, vulgar deceit. At that moment, Lysandre knew he’d been purified in their minds, and his very own.

As gratitude welled from within, he sat down and met Serena’s gaze. She mirrored his sentiment, her silver orbs nearly to the point of tears. Overtaken by his honesty, Lysandre reached for her cheek and caressed it tenderly. “I know now I was spared for a greater purpose,” he murmured, unaware of the crowd’s still watchful eye. “Arceus could have readily killed me in Geosenge that day, left me in my own ruins.”

“But, I was spared,” he pressed on as Serena dabbed her misty eyes. “He let me be, and I know why.” His hand fell from her cheek, only to grasp at her own free palm. As Serena drew in close to him, her gaze softened. “It’s because of you, Serena. You saw in me what Arceus did, and held your faith in my heart.”

“I’ll never forget it underground,” he rasped out, his mouth slack once more. “Never forget the incessant darkness, its wretched despair.” Pitted with her own sorrow, Serena reached for his own free hand, locking them together. Silver met aqua, their pools ablaze with plain distress. Unwilling to let it consume her, he leaned in close, their noses nearly touching. “Never to see the light again-”

As his warm breath spilled upon her, Serena felt faint with desire. This was the man she so adored, the one her faith lay in. “Until you returned,” Lysandre breathed out, his gaze piercing. “I didn’t know it then, but you came for me.” Serena’s heart quickened, astir with gratitude and mercy. “Sustained by Xerneas’ might, I dug and dug, praying to see the light again.”

Time stood still in the cafe now, as subdued as the crowd had become. All focused on the pair, their palpable adoration. Lysandre felt himself stifled, felled by his buried remorse. Before he speak once more, another took his place.

“And it came with me,” Serena remarked, her voice lyrical. “It came when I found you, when it hit us both, the-”

“-the Morning Sun, Poliwag,” he chimed in as their hands broke apart. “Yes, indeed.” Her eyes widened, stunned by his sudden departure. Before she could protest, his hands met the small of her back. “For, when you came, I knew all would be well. I knew I was blessed, reborn for a greater purpose.” As Serena collapsed into his chest, he nuzzled her in turn. “for, you are my Morning Sun, my reason for living.”

“I can’t imagine life without you,” Lysandre murmured as his hand ran along her spine. “And I hope I never do. For us, for Kalos’ greater good, I shall heed Xerneas’ word!” Serena glanced up to him, her eyes pleading. His hand fell upon her shoulder, its touch warm and entrancing. “I shall honor Arceus, and live up to it’s shining hopes!”

“I bless Flare Institute under my hand,” he elaborated, his voice booming. “See that you all heed my word, that you all honor the world’s glory! Never shall you lash out in anger, and so shall you be blessed as I have!” Now driven by desire and brimming vigor, Lysandre embraced his beloved, pulling her intimately close.

As they broke into a feverish, longing kiss, applause broke out around them. Though they cared not for the crowd’s reaction, Arceus’ glory seemed to penetrate all that day. It rested in Lysandre’s claims, his fervent dedication to renewal. It lay in the hearts of the many, eager to delight in his blessed redemption.

But most of all, it lay in Serena herself. For, as artificial light danced upon golden locks, a flame rose within the cafe. It was a new sort, one born of promise and rebirth. It pulled at the hearts of all present, like a phoenix rising from the ashes. For, it was the spark of hope, smoldering on in life’s incessant darkness.

Just as the morning sun itself, it offered promise of new life, of a divine, radiant warmth. Now in its purest form, all Lysandre could do was bask in its glory. Nothing could be better for him, and he didn’t want it any other way.

This was his new life now, one he was eternally grateful for. And he owed it all to her, his flame within the darkness. The Morning Sun had blessed him well, leaving both to rebel in its eternal, divine light.


End file.
